


Erase

by Stories_from_Unicron



Series: Still Alive [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 12:58:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16954476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stories_from_Unicron/pseuds/Stories_from_Unicron
Summary: Long before Cybertron, Primus and Unicron were locked in eternal conflict. Until a mysterious force overcomes Primus' eternal enemy, and the Lord of Light must choose his words wisely.





	Erase

**Author's Note:**

> This story was largely inspired by the events and characters of the Marvel UK Transformers comics; which brought us one of the first incarnations of the Unicron and Primus mythos. If you're looking for genuine characterization and personality in your gods, I recommend this series completely. If this gains interest, I'll write more about a universe where Primus and Unicron are working together. Can't promise the road to peace will be smooth, however.

Primus fled.

In the blinding, ethereal quasar that formed his heart; The Lord of Light knew that the war would be over very soon. The light at his core raced, flashing whites and yellows and silvers in time with every fear-soured thought. Dread touched his aura with fingers of muddy, ash gray. He did not want to die.  
More than that, he did not want to kill. Because he was weak, he'd lost his pantheon, and the fledgling life that had started to spread through the universe. With the final battle drawing so near, he couldn't imagine taking the life of the only person he had left. He stilled his energies, drawing sword and shield closer. More than anything, Primus wished there was another way. Courage tinged his aura in bronze, sorrow tarnished it with shades of green.

There was still a chance for this Universe. He could rebuild what had been consumed; he could sow the seeds of life once more and help them grow. Primus NEEDED to stop the spread of the void; no matter the cost. 

Unicron must die, so that all else might live. 

Wordlessly, he stopped fleeing. With no escape possible; Primus turned to face his shadow.  
The Lord of Light held his shield high, bracing for a strike that never came. To Primus bewilderment, he soon came to a shocking realization. At some point that he'd missed, Unicron had stopped chasing him. 

Primus scanned a hundred thousand light years to his right with a glance, then another hundred thousand to the left. His opponent was no where to be seen. Had Unicron realized his plan? No, impossible. The Chaos-bringer had been drunk with bloodlust. When the hunger overcame him; nothing could turn away his wrath. Why then, had he stopped?

Primus began searching the closest nebula, his sword at the ready. His enemy was not there, either.  
A dying moan echoed across the universe. Primus turned; concern splitting his heart in flashes of lightning. He knew it was a deception; perhaps meant to counteract his own. With Unicron, it was always tricks, and traps, and lies. An upturned lip, a flash of fangs. Cold satisfaction and blazing flashes of arrogance. Aside from these ghosts of emotion; Unicron was nothing. Capable of feeling-of regretting- nothing. It was his nature, and Primus did not hate him for that.

He ran toward the sound, knowing it was a trick, Primus crossed the universe in thirty strides and there, at its outskirts, he found his 'brother.' Unicron was bent nearly in two. One of his withered wings was still and limp. The other stood straight up from his back and trembled violently, as if Unicron would quiver himself to pieces. His weapons lay cast to the side, abandoned.

Primus stepped forward. For a moment, he forgot himself and reached out, setting his hand against Unicron's plackart. 

The armor was solid. Composed of many metals and as hot as a newborn-star. Unicron was not in his astral form. Somehow; he'd moved to the physical plane WITHOUT falling into Primus' trap. Unicron hissed, squinting against the makers' light. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes. 

The Lord of Light drew back, raising his shield. He was prepared for anything. For a handful of space-dust to blind him, for a blow to the core, or a kick. But nothing could have prepared him for what Unicron said next.

"Do You know who I am?"

Unicron barely spoke above a murmur. The ashes of the last living world dusted his lips as he gave a shuddering sigh. Primus had never seen his rival this way. Defeated, perhaps. Thwarted, on occasion. But never like this. Never so tired and lost.

"If You know, You must tell me. I must have a name, a purpose and destiny." Unicron cast an arm out; gesturing to the void around them. "There is nothing here. I only see You, and You must know what I do not! Tell me, then. Tell me who I am! Tell me now!"

Unicron grabbed at the hem of Primus Megallenic cloak, clutching it in his gleaming talons. 

"Please." The Chaos-bringer whispered.

The fall of the gods, the dying of the universe, the weight of all that had been lost couldn't equal half of the desolation in that single, breathless word. Tears of pity burned Primus eyes. 

"You are Unicron, The Chaos-Bringer. The Dark Lord. You are Chaos and Fury given form. My eternal counter-balance." He set his sword aside, bringing himself down on one knee so that he could meet Unicron's gaze.

The chaos bringer was silent for a time; mulling over what he had been told. After a while, he nodded. "Yes. somehow, I know that to be true."

Relief stilled his trembling, and his wings rose, new purpose giving him strength. 

"Who are you, then?" Unicron looked at Primus; his poison green optics growing brighter with each syllable. He flexed his talons, fingers extending, closing into a fist, and extending again. 

"I am Primus, The Lord of Light. I am your friend."

Unicron's optics went dark. His lips pulled back; metal fangs glinting wetly. 

"That," He snarled, spitting green flame, "I know NOT to be true." 

Primus held up his hand, countering quickly. "I misspoke. I am your family." 

The fire in Unicron's maw died away as he pondered Primus words once more. "Family." He repeated, as if the sound of it had a strange taste. 

"Yes. I was put here to shine and create, and protect what lives. You are here to cast shadow; to destroy what is old and make way for new life. You know this is the truth, I've told you countless times. We are meant to work together, Order and Chaos, an eternal balance." Primus dropped his shield, reaching out and grabbing Unicron's hand. 

He clasped it between his palms, hardly daring to hope.

"You know I speak the truth. Don't you, Unicron?"

A silence passed between them, stretching for Eons. Finally, Unicron closed his fingers around Primus hand.

"Yes." He replied, reluctantly. "That would seem to be true. Primus?"

"Yes?"

"Do not ever lie to me again. If you do, then you set yourself as my enemy." 

Wonder painted Primus aura. Brilliant, blue wonder. Gold elation flashed through him, with a faint, silver lining of hope. "You have my word, I won't lie again. I don't want to be your enemy. We should work together. Can you stand, Unicron?"

"I do not know how." The Chaos-bringer replied. "You must show me."

"Yes. Yes, that is a fine idea! I will teach you." Primus laughed, and his joy was a warm, perfect red that filled his optics. "It isn't too late, I'll teach you everything you need to know, old friend."

And Primus felt so deeply that his colors would never change again.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is dedicated to my long-time friend Sarah. Thank you, for always lighting my dark hours and being horrified by Sushi.


End file.
